


How many special people change?

by gryffinlarry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Boys In Love, F/M, M/M, Pining, That's it, and Louis' bullshit tweet, possible explantion for harry's L.A obssesion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-10
Updated: 2014-03-10
Packaged: 2018-01-15 05:16:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1292755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gryffinlarry/pseuds/gryffinlarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He could wait for things to get better, for their relationship to pick up. What he couldn't comprehend was how Louis seemed so at ease with the disappearing of their friendship. How could he act like it was alright, when it hurt Harry to no end?</p>
            </blockquote>





	How many special people change?

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so this is my first fanfiction ever. And it is probably full of mistakes and I am very sorry but Louis was wearing a headband the other day and I had to do this. Also, i like people and making friends so come talk to me at gryffinlarry.tumblr.com

Harry is a very patient person. If he wasn't, he probably wouldn't have half of the things he has today. His whole life had been determined by time and his and other people's abilities to wait for things to happen or for things to pass. 

If his dad had been more patient with him and his sister and his mother, he wouldn't have left them the minute he saved up for a plane ticket. If his mother had been an impatient person, she wouldn't have waited all those hours in line at The X Factor with him so he could have a shot at stardom. If he had been the kind of person that didn't wait for things to get better, he would've ran away the minute he was thrown in a band with a ragtag group of boys and saw they were all completely different. 

And if Louis Tomlinson had been the kind of person to stop for a minute and think things through, they still might've been best friends. 

But he wasn't. And somewhere along the blissful first two years of One Direction, Louis gradually drifted apart from him. He thinks it all began that one night, when they still shared a flat and Louis was extremely drunk, that they had a bit of a romantic moment in a party on a London rooftop somewhere. They had a bit of a stare contest, some sheepish smiles, and a whole lot of beer. 

The morning after filled with a massive headache and even bigger gap in their relationship. Almost immediately after, Eleanor came along, Louis moved out, and the Larry Stylinson frenzy began. 

He didn't mind the rumors. They amused him and even got him thinking a little bit of the “what if’s”, but they irritated Louis (and management) to no end. And so they stopped sitting next to each other at signings. And they didn't fool around at interviews anymore. Daily conversations turned weekly and now they didn't even text each other that often. They went from staying up late talking about absolutely everything, to only chat about upcoming events and rehearsal schedules. They were still mates, of course, but the prefix of mates became just band- instead of best-. 

But he could handle it. He could wait for things to get better, for their relationship to pick up. What he couldn't comprehend was how Louis seemed so at ease with the disappearing of their friendship. How could he act like it was alright, when it hurt Harry to no end? Hurt so much he couldn't even be in England when they had breaks, not when he knew the only friends he had were his band mates and their thirty years old photographer.

He loved Cal a lot, and he also has Grimmy, but that was about it when it came to British friends and he had the awful feeling that he was missing something. He never had many friends back at home, unlike the Niall or Louis, but now that he was rich and famous he needed someone to share all of his good luck with. He needed someone who wouldn't run away at the mere mention that there might be something else other than friendship between that person and their best friend. And that’s how he ended up in Los Angeles.

He loved the city. It was beautiful, for once, but it was also filled with people like him. Young millionaires in search of good company. Heartbroken bastards looking for numbness. L.A offered all of that and more. He was able to dine in the best restaurants, drive the fastest cars, and hang out with the coolest people freely, in a way he never saw possible back in London. He was happy, well, almost happy. 

Even though he was content in California, he missed England’s rainy weather. He missed hot mugs of tea and British accents. He missed his mum and Gemma and taking long walks in Homes Chapel. He missed the boys, missed Paul, missed Lou and little Lux. But most of all, he missed Louis. He missed the relationship they had before. He missed the way he was obnoxiously loud, how he was completely inappropriate, and the crinkles he got around his eyes when he truly smiled.

You could say he was properly fucked.

And that’s why he’s been sitting in his car, outside of LAX, for the past hour waiting for Louis-motherfucking-Tomlinson’s plane to land. He is exited, too exited, because Louis loathed L.A and avoided the city like the plague. When Zayn (bless him) called him to tell him Louis was planning a song-writing trip to California he got the stupidest smile on his face, one that made Alexa smack his head and ask, “What the actual fuck is wrong with you?”

He doesn't even know what he is going to say when he sees Louis. Like, it’s a simple ‘hey Lou’ too casual, or ‘I think I’m a bit gay and a bit in love with you too much’ too much? So far, this is has been a terrible idea. He would start the car and turn back, except the clock says its 8:35, which means Louis has to be picking up his bags right about now. And he’s come too far (with sexual orientation revelations and whatnot) to back away. Besides, what is the worst case scenario? Louis yelling at him to go away in the middle of a crowded airport? That was pretty bad, granted, but he would survive. He would.

On that note, he gets out of the car. Five minutes later, he is starring at the little ‘ARRIVALS’ sign that marks the place where Louis is bound to come out from, any minute now. He wonders why on earth his hands are shaking. 

When he finally spots the familiar cerulean eyes, he has to catch his breath because- fuck- is that a fucking headband he is wearing? And why are his eyes so gorgeous? And that smile? Is Eleanor with him? Shit, shit, shit. He is so unprepared. He is even more unprepared for hearing the highly confused; “Harry?” that comes out of Louis’ mouth

“Hiiiiiii,” He is such a moron. 

“What are you doing here?” He doesn't know if that’s puzzling, or amusement, or – god forbid – hopefulness in Louis voice.

“Zayn told me you were coming, so I figured… I figured you would like a ride to your hotel? Maybe?” This is so embarrassing.  
He is expecting a snort. He is expecting a horrified look. He is expecting anything but the dazzling smile Louis gives him. Talk about speechless.

“Absolutely. You know how much I hate limos,” Louis says. Harry knows. “Lead the way then, mate” 

And so he walks Louis to his car. And so Louis spends the whole way to his hotel complaining about Eleanor. And so harry goes to bed with the silliest grin on his face. Because he spent time with Louis today like he hadn't in months. Because he had two whole, sunny L.A weeks to tell him how he felt. Because maybe, after this trip, he wouldn't feel the need to run away anymore. Because he was a fool in love, and it never felt this good before.


End file.
